Seven Days
by DJ Madcat
Summary: Yeah... It's a crossover with Seven Days. Ever heard of it? If you have and like it, read this. If you don't and wanna know, then read this. Please Review. No Flames, though.
1. Prologue: Too long to fit

Updated Chapter Notes: Just added a few things here and there, and the Backstep clock too. That's about all. Don't worry, though. I'm still working on the second chapter. It's much longer than what I first thought. The reason it's going to take some more time is because I've been sick for the past week and have just started working a few days ago.

Author's Notes: Okay, so this is a Crossover with one of my favorite sci-fi shows: Seven Days. For those of you who watch AXN, you might know what it is. For those who don't, well… this fic might answer a few questions. Progress on WotT has been discontinued indefinitely, until I think of some good ideas. Please help me you guys! Oh, yeah, before I forget, please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Vandread. It belongs to GONZO. Seven Days doesn't belong to me either. Ownership of the said series goes to Christopher and Zachary Crowe.

****

Seven Days

By DJ Madcat

Prologue: Time Line, Tragedy Line, and Backstep Line

Betelgeuse's Rock, Tarak-Mejeele Interplanetary Asteroid Belt

Aug. 15th, Colonial Year No. 30

Zen and his high council associates sat across the table from the women. A very long table at that. The two partners in life had come to renew their vows that they had made on that day they were wed. When was the last time they did that? Long before the colonial fleet had even left the Earth. That was hell of a long time. This time around, they were celebrating their anniversary as leaders, and thus did so by making an agreement between their worlds.

"So, Anli," the aging patriarch started, "My council has proposed we start a treaty that would ensure mutual cooperation between out worlds. It's your vote."

Zen's wife and Mejeelian counterpart shook her head, "My council has voted too many 'nays'. It won't do. My proposal is that we start a joint venture between our two worlds to ensure protection of the star system…" she noticed her judicator motioning her hand in a corkscrew manner, "A discreet and top secret joint venture," she corrected herself, "Consisting of ten thousand of our most trusted personnel each."

GrandPa excused himself from the table shortly to consult with the Tarakian High Council, "So, gentlemen, basically, Anli wants us to found a covert organization based on a joint venture between our two worlds, combining our technologies for great advancement, all to be used for protecting the star system."

"What's with all the secrecy?" the Prime Minister inquired, "We could end struggles between our two nations with your idea easy! If only those blasted women weren't so _paranoid_ and _objective_ of our purposes, we could become a stellar empire in no time!"

"A wise man once said, 'What cannot be seen may be the best protection of all, for if the public does not know about it, neither will the enemy.' Perhaps this principle is what Anli and her staff are thinking of," said a bearded first generation member in a turban named Danel. 

"Quite possibly, Danel… but then again, they could just be suspicious of our actions. After all, women will be women no matter what we do and I might as well stay at war if it is under those terms," said another first generation member by the name of Horzion.

"I can go with that proposal," Jin interrupted, taking a bite out of the chocolate bar given to him by the female receptionist as 'compliments of the facility', "As long as we can give our own terms."

"Make the conclusion, people. Personally, to make diplomatic conditions go for better, I vote yea." Zen ended. The Prime Minister voted nay, grumbling something about 'paranoid bitches' or something like that. Danel threw a yea at the table without thinking twice. His philosophical side got the best of him. Horzion's suspicions of the women were made evident as he voted nay. It was a stalemate with Jin as the deciding voter.

"Why don't you propose our terms to them, brother? I won't vote until I am assured that we have a say in this." Jin said finally.

"So be it." Zen returned to the table and discussed this with the women. A nod from Anli told him that his point had been taken and accepted. 

Jin had great plans for this organization, and on seeing confirmation of consideration of their terms, proceeded to the table.

"Speak your mind, Jin. What terms are we talking about here?" Anli inquired.

"All members are to treat each other according to rank and equally as humans in that organization. Diplomatic immunity is to be given to them. They are also to be provided with special badges as a symbol of their organization that places them above every law enforcement and military group."

GrandMa consulted with her people first, and returned to the table saying, "We agree."

"Then it's settled. My vote is yea." With that, Jin returned to his station.

"The decision has been made, Anli." Zen said as he sat at the table again, "The voting was three to two. We accept this proposal."

"Very well then." She thought for a while, "Where are we to place the main facility?"

"Somewhere on this asteroid belt; neutral territory, in order to represent the unbiased values of the organization." Zen decided, "Now for a name for it…"

"Stellar Security Agency." The woman across the table replied, "We have considered this long ago."

"I see. Very well then, Anli. The Stellar Security Agency it will be…" Therefore, it was on this memorable date that the Stellar Security Agency, a covert joint effort between Tarak and Mejeele, was founded, designated directives of which are to ensure total security of the star system from all outsiders.

Timeline for Project Backstep

C.Y. No. 47- It was this year that an unidentified spacecraft penetrated the magnetic storm that sheathed the star system and crashed somewhere in the asteroid belt. SSA agents located it a few days later on an unnamed asteroid with a 10km diameter, thus coining it 'Roswell.' Advanced technologies, alien transcripts, recordings, and black boxes were discovered along with several functioning parts for what could only be described as a mechanical sphere of some sort. SSA operatives brought it back to Betelgeuse's Rock, which was, by that time the SSA headquarters facility.

C.Y. No. 50- Alien Transcripts concerning the 'sphere' have been translated, it being unraveled to be some sort of prototype time device. Independent research on sphere has begun, along with localization of sphere Operating Systems, Motherboards, Hard Drives, Display Systems, and Fuel Cells. Never Never Land is founded on Blackroot Prime for the sole purpose of sphere research, development, and future operations, assigned to which was a 2000 man and woman employee body.

C.Y. No. 63- Research and localization of the sphere has been completed, however, original sphere suffered from system crash causing its own destruction.

C.Y. No. 67- Sphere replicated exactly according to original design, and refitted with power regulation device. Testing begins with Lemark Izaki as first test pilot. Sphere goes back in time indefinitely, Izaki is lost.

C.Y. No. 71- Sphere replaced and refitted with additional survival gear along with SPS (Stellar Positioning System). Testing continues with Eric Johnson as second test pilot. Sphere is destroyed in system overload and Johnson is rushed to infirmary with critical injuries.

C.Y. No. 76- Fourth Sphere is built along with up-to-date OS and survival gear. Neia Stromberg selected as third test pilot. First successful backstep made and assassination of GrandPa is undone.

C.Y. No. 80- Stromberg is killed in crossfire between Mejeelian and Tarakian Naval forces and is replaced by Kimuel Shizuka. 30th recorded backstep is made; Mejeelian Judicator's death by choking on pizza is undone.

C.Y. No. 89- Shizuka quits, complaining about 'low paycheck' or something like that. Prior to that, sphere is destroyed in an explosion during a maintenance session.

C.Y. 97- Sphere is rebuilt to meet 'perfect' qualifications of the SSA panel and is refitted with new survival equipment as soon as they are completed. Frank B. Parker is recruited for the backstep program and replaces Shizuka. C.Y. 97 is also recorded to have the most backstep events in Never Never Land history.

C.Y. 100- Ikazuchi launched; Magno Pirates attack. Backstep to undo event is disapproved by SSA higher-ups panel. Reasons concern that they have a Tarakian government agent implanted into Magno's Pirate group whose cover they did not want to blow.

Nirvana, Tarak-Mejeele System Floating Mine Field

Present Date, C.Y. 101

"Boss, we have a problem." Belvedere reported.

"What is it?"

"We've arrived at the Tarakian defense post. It's their last line of defense. They've left floating mines!"

Hibiki's image appeared on main screen, cocky as usual, "Let me at 'em. We'll cut our way through without breaking a sweat!"

"No!" came the strict and aggressive reply of the aged pirate leader, "This mine field will help protect the system by stranding the Harvest forces that will arrive someday!" she was sure that the harvest fleet would arrive sooner or later, and four mother ships would be disastrous.

"Then what do you want us to do!? They're going to kill us!" the Vanguard pilot retorted.

"Stand down, Hibiki! That's an order!" the vid-window closed, Hibiki fading out with an exasperated expression on his face.

A monotone and robotic recording was given out, "This is the Tarak automated defense line. To those who are passing, provide us with your distinction codes or we shall open fire." A preset timer appeared on main screen.

"Distinction codes, eh?" the only three men on the ship appeared on main screen a moment later, "Boys, do you have any distinction codes?" she asked them.

"Distinction codes are only for senior officers," Bart whined, "and we're just cadets, so there's nothing we can do!" _Damn, I wish I asked my granddad about those codes!_ He thought to himself, as he stayed in his post, powerless to do anything about the problem.

"I'm sorry. I don't have them either." Duero stated calmly.

"Don't look at me." Hibiki piped.

"No Distinction Codes have been transmitted. Commencing attack in 300 seconds." The timer began to count, 300 seconds decreasing a number lower with each passing moment. Magno noticed her second in command, Buzam A. Calesa, tense at this predicament they were in right now. The silver haired vice-commander was struggling to decide…

"180 seconds to attack, Boss!" Celtic piped in.

"Boss, we've received word from Parfet. She says she's thought of a way to jam the mines." Amarone reported.

"That's good." She began to contemplate on other ways to take care of this situation in case Parfet's method failed.

***

Parfet typed furiously on the keyboard, bringing up a cross-section of a mine, the tracking core glowing a fiery red. "What are you doing?" Duero asked her.

"If we can't destroy the whole mine, I'll just try to sabotage the tracking system instead." She returned to attempting this feat.

"You know what," he said, her attention turning to him shortly, "For some reason, I feel less anxious when I'm with you."

"Really?" she answered, "You seem to be quieter when you're happy."

"I am honored to be examined." A smile appeared on his face, causing the bespectacled engineer to blush slightly just before she returned to her work in sabotaging the mines' tracking systems.

***

Back on the bridge, things were getting bad, very bad. All other methods attempted to stop the impeding destruction of the ship so far have failed, and the only other available option to stop the mines from ending their journey prematurely besides sabotaging their TS, was to use the Tarakian distinction codes they didn't have. 

"Ten seconds until attack, Boss," a panicked Belvedere shouted frantically. Magno gritted her teeth as beads of sweat began to decorate her forehead. There was no way they were going to get out of this fix unless a miracle occurred. Then again, their journey was loaded with miracles, the very first being the Pexis remodeling the ship, and modifying the Dreads and Vanguard to become compatible with each other.

Buzam Calesa… no, Uragasumi Tenmei, struggled to decide whether or not to reveal his true identity. _I mustn't jeopardize the mission_, he thought as his hand fell short of grasping his voice modulator.

"Attack commencing in two seconds…"

_The mission is the top priority. I mustn't do this._ He knew he was lying to himself, and that survival was the only thing he could attempt to accomplish.

"One second…"

His hand reached out but missed the modulator by just a few millimeters, too little time to react. He reached out yet again, the green ornament turning red just as the counter reached zero, "No communication received. Commencing attack." The automated voice stated. A split second to act, a split second that wasn't used wisely as the mines closed in on the pirate ship and utterly destroyed, vaporized, desecrated, annihilated, and obliterated it.

***

Never Never Land, Blackroot Prime, Interplanetary Asteroid Belt

A few days later…

Bradley Talmadge played the video recording. On it, was Nirvana getting creamed by the mine field that the Tarakians had placed to protect the area, "This footage was taken by SSA external cameras that monitor that area of the star system."

Frank Parker reclined on the chair he was using, placing his booted feet on the maple conference table. "So what? It's the old compartment of the Tarakian Flagship Ikazuchi that Magno's pirates hijacked last year. That's no big deal. In fact, we should be happy that they're dead. Why in the hell are we backstepping anyway?"

"Cool it, Frank." Craig Donovan hooted, "What's gotten you so pissed anyway?" He had been Frank's best friend since he could ever remember, his memories having him in all of them.

"Okay," the chrononaut replied, "This is how it goes: I was talking to GrandPa, reminiscing the time I foiled his assassination, when Ramsey here barges into my room and drags me over to the Mtg. Facility."

"GrandPa had been assassinated twice before you joined the backstep program, Parker." The Chief of security, Nathan Ramsey piped in his usual obnoxious hillbilly accent, "So don't think you can brag to us about that. Now straighten yourself up and listen to what the boss has to say."

"All of you calm down." The Backstep program director made known, "The reason we are backstepping this time was the same reason that the SSA panel disapproved a backstep when the Ikazuchi was hijacked last year." He pushed a key on the display controls, the video recording being replaced by a before/after picture, a middle aged Tarakian officer under 'Before', and a silver haired woman with a whip under 'After'. "Gentlemen, meet Commander Uragasumi Tenmei, elite member of the Tarakian Secret Service. He was assigned a mission to infiltrate the ranks of Magno Vivan's pirates and has been very successful in doing so until the incident occurred."

"Let me guess," Parker butted, "The reason you're showing us this before/after image is to show how he looks now, right?" he made the sex appeal gesture while whistling, "I must say, he passes for a Grade A bona fide female. How'd he get those done?"

"Can the crap, Parker." By this time, Ramsey was a hydrogen bomb ready to detonate, and his flush red face was proof of that.

All Talmadge could do was grin, his white beard causing him to slightly resemble Santa Claus, "Anyway, for the past three years, he has been feeding information to the Tarakian Government about Magno Vivan's pirates, not to mention female lifestyles." He paused shortly, "Last year, however, after the Ikazuchi hijacking, he has stopped feeding information about women. Instead, a few months ago, Tarak and Mejeele have received data from him concerning a covert operation started by an unknown enemy against all colonial planets within a million light-year radius of their planet codenamed 'Harvest'."

"But what are they harvesting?" Donovan inquired, his imagination acting up about the issue.

"We don't know. Our agents in the two governments said that GrandMa and GrandPa had deleted the information before they could get their hands on it."

"And an enemy we don't know, we cannot protect the star system against." A fifth figure spoke up. He was Doctor Isaac Mentnor, one of the scientists who helped work on the original sphere and has been with the backstep project since the UFO's discovery.

"Exactly," Talmadge agreed, "Agent Tenmei had knowledge about the Harvest that we don't. The SSA unanimously voted that you backstep and bring him with Magno's pirates and the Ikazuchi's old section back here to NNL. Oh, by the way, Frank, his alias is Buzam A. Calesa and is currently Magno Vivan's second-in-command. Your parameters are to try not to blow his cover, rouse any suspicion with the pirates, and of course, SOP: Do not mention anything about Project: Backstep."

"Hey, I'm cool. But how in the hell are we supposed to get past those space mines?"

"That's what this is for." Dr. Mentnor handed the chrononaut a recorder. "Recorded on this are Dr. Talmadge's SSA distinction codes. This should be more than enough to get you through the minefield. Once that is accomplished, give us a Conundrum call and we'll send an escort fleet to bring you and the ship back to NNL."

"Let me try that," Parker snagged the device from the aging man's hand and pushed the play button. 

A few seconds of static, and finally, a familiar voice spoke in monotone, "The Tarak-Mejeele Stellar Security Agreement, Project Backstep Division, Bradley H. Talmadge, Rank Director, Distinction Codes: Taurus-19153542. Commence Identification." The recording ended abruptly as Parker pushed the stop button. The rewind button followed, the tape making a friction-loaded sound as the magnetic material did a backstep of its own.

***

The three people proceeded down the walkway towards the sphere's hangar. One was recognizable as Parker in a space suit, Talmadge on his left, and a bespectacled man in a wheelchair, Dr. John Ballard, another Sphere researcher and member of Team Backstep, on his right. 

"Remember, Frank," Talmadge said, "You'll arrive in the magnetic storm the day they break through into the minefield. You have to gain the pirates' trust in order to get onto the bridge and transmit my Distinction Codes to allow passage."

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot," Dr. Ballard was the very forgetful type of person who just didn't quite have any time to think about anything at all except those upgrades he made to the sphere depending on the mission. "I had the team add three extra layers of titanium-adamantine plating to the hull in order to keep it safe when you enter the magnetic storm. That ought to keep the sphere from malfunctioning from getting one of its vital structures damaged."

"Got it," Parker replied as he climbed the stairs leading to the ball-shaped vehicle, the dark blue light of the room and the sparks from final maintenance checks illuminating the threesome's faces. 

He closed down his visor as he stepped into the Sphere, strapping himself into the cockpit, hands grasping the one joystick after he flicked a few switches to activate the device.

"Reactor at 80 percent, stand by." Came the announcement from Dr. Olga Vukavitch who operated the control room. A virtual wireframe of the sphere connected to chronofluctuation ports was loosed onto the six lock-on points arranged like a hexagon's corners, blinking green with the lock signal. 

Parker seized the joystick as the Russian scientist announced, "Reactor at 100 percent. Engage." He slapped the green ignition button with all his might, taking hold of the joystick again, trying to keep the ports onto the lock-on points in order to disrupt the space-time continuum. 

Blue and purple energies thrashed about around the sphere prior to the bulbous time machine vanishing from the balustraded maintenance catwalk's grasp, launching itself through the tear in the delicate fabric of time and space. 

The Computer began to count the days backward from Friday 0600 hours…

Thursday…

Wednesday…

Tuesday…

He struggled through gritted teeth to keep the ports in place, which was necessary if he were to jump back in time, as the vehicle advanced through the time tunnel, rocking in all directions as it did. Images flashed through his mind in reverse play, like a movie going through the rewind process.

Monday…

Sunday…

  
Saturday…

The video clip about Ikazuchi's old part being destroyed instead showed an explosion crunching into a solid star ship, mines retreating from it and moving towards their assigned places. Talmadge's voice recording played backwards, and sounded like it was on fast-forward. 

Friday, 2359 hours…

Friday, 1159 hours…

Friday, 0800 hours…

The pressure took its toll as Frank, still holding onto the joystick and struggling to keep the ports in proper place, shouted what could only be recognized as, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" This trailed off as he exited the tear in the time-space continuum and materialized within some sort of verdant energy shield of what his sphere computers deducted to be coming from that strange crimson crustacean-like vehicle at Protection Level 84. _Looks like I won't be needing those extra plates anymore. Thanks anyway, Ballard._

He opened his eyes to see that he was staring at a blue-silver star ship with four compartments protruding from a central core point. Checking the chronometer, he was satisfied to see it read, Friday, 0600 hours. _Right on time again,_ and the magnetic storm only confirmed his suspicions. It was the old part of the Ikazuchi…_ Look's like I've found our backstep objective…_ he thought as he switched on the com-link to NNL, "This is Conundrum. We have a backstep situation."

End of Prologue

Author's Notes: Sorry for the cliffhanger. Couldn't think of anything else to put in. I'll be continuing work on this for the time being. Another one shot is coming up soon. Actually, I'm already done, but Fizzy's friend, Dogma, says that he can add a little spice to it, so I won't be posting it anytime before June. Please review this one, and no flames, please! Kids are very emotional!


	2. Chapter 1:Frank Parker, SSA Oh, no, wait...

Author's Notes: I didn't actually think I'd find anybody in this category who actually watches Seven Days, but what the hell! Um, megane-san_87, were you referring to the part in episode 7 of the _second_ stage (Where Hibiki was just about to tell Dita his feelings when the Earth attacked) or were you really talking about the episode in the first stage? (The part where Labat/Rabat/Robert/Sam/whatever-his-real-name-is would've beaten Hibiki to death had it not been for Meia) Well, whatever! Just tell me exactly what you mean via e-mailing me. Got that?

Disclaimer: Must I do this with every chapter? Vandread belongs to GONZO and to those they deem worthy to it being so. Seven Days belongs to Chris and Zack Crowe.

_"You're about to be let in on the most highly classified data the Tarak-Mejeele system holds."_

_"We have a device that can allow us to send one human being back in time Seven Days."_

_"This is a matter of Stellar Security! Its effects on the star system could be catastrophic!"_

_"Well, looks like I'll be seeing you last week."_

_"Reactor at 100 percent. Engage."_

_"Ah. Let's do it again."_

Seven Days 

By DJ Madcat

Chapter 1: Frank Parker, SSA… Oh, no, wait… That's Classified Information

Never Never Land, Blackroot Prime, Interplanetary Asteroid Belt

Post-Backstep Timeline…

            Bradley Talmadge and Nathan Ramsey, Nate as he was called, listened in on what the chrononaut on the other side of the link had to say. "What's the situation, Frank?"

            "Okay, here's the scoop," he started, "In a few hours, the Old Part of the Ikazuchi that Magno's Pirates hijacked last year is gonna run into Tarak's automated minefield and get reduced to a pile of spacedust. The SSA panel has ordered one backstep good to go with hot pickles and onions to pick up a Tarakian Government agent implanted into Magno's pirate group and extract information about a covert alien operation known as Harvest."

            "Where are you now?" Talmadge asked him.

            "I'm in the stellar magnetic storm just outside the system, and it looks like Ikazuchi's old section is about to pick me up. Once I give the okay signal, you are to send an escort force to pick the old section and me up to bring back to NNL. The SSA panel will decide what to do then."

            "Hey, Parker," Ramsey butted in, "Don't molest anybody on board that ship, ya hear!?  Magno's pirates is just another term meaning party girls' club, and if I know you, you'd lose yourself once you catch the sight of a dozen or more babes!"

            "Actually, Ramsey, there are about a hundred fifty '_babes'_ on that ship," Frank corrected, "And don't worry. I'm sure none of them would fall for me, since they aren't used to coexisting with men and the like. Besides, I'm already taken."

            "Excuse me?" Ramsey asked.

            "Send my regards to Olga." That statement somehow connected well with the balding security chief's brain. "Oh, yeah, and have Donovan command the Vanguard/Dread escort team. I don't trust those SSA hotshot pilots who think they're so damn good."

            "No problem, Frank." Talmadge said, "We have just received a transmission from Intel. They've just confirmed the presence of two third-generation Cadets on board. They could be the pirates' prisoners."

            "Why just prisoners?" Ramsey asked, "If they've been on Ikazuchi for a year, won't they just be… dead?"

            "Not under agent Tenmei's care. That's what we believe." Backstep program's chubby bearded director imposed, "Frank, save those cadets if they're still alive. One of them is Bart Garsus, son of the Chairman of Tarak's food pellet chain, Garsus Rations Inc."

            "A spoiled rich kid type, my bet. Who's the other one?"

            "Duero McFile, graduated first in his class and overall first in his entire batch. This man specializes in medical services, so they could still use him… Not Bart, though. My guess is that they could be holding him for ransom, or just killed him at once."

            Parker chuckled, "Don't worry, Bradley. I'll get them and agent Tenmei, or my name ain't Frank B. Parker, SSA." With that, he ended their discussion.

            "You think he'll screw up, sir?" Ramsey had a gut feeling that something would go wrong ever since Parker phoned in. No matter how many times the man told himself that Parker won't screw up, he always did, anyhow. He swore that one of these days on one of these timelines, he was going to blow his top if the chrononaut messed up one more time and beat him so badly that that Russian gal of his wouldn't even be able to recognize him even if she looked at his dental records.

"I don't know, Nate," Talmadge replied, "I just don't know. That's why we'll have to trust Frank in this situation."

***

The Nirvana, Tarak-Mejeele System Border Magnetic Storm

Post-Backstep Timeline…

            Belvedere Coco was just thinking about joining in on the party where everybody else was, save her, the vice-captain, that bald navigator and the Boss. Celtic, Amarone, and Ezra had gone on ahead for obvious reasons. She stared out into the turbulence of the magnetic storm, through the viewing port of the Bio-Park where the party was well under way, through Vandread Jura's verdant shield, and… 

Her eyes widened as she saw some sort of round mechanical object materialize out of nowhere, and what's worse, if it was another of Earth's harvest implements that is, it was inside the barrier that the crimson Vanguard/Dread hybrid was generating, therefore leaving the ship absolutely defenseless.

It was just a moment later that it registered on her scanners. Distance 450. It was well inside Vandread Jura's shields and was apparently approaching the hangar. The thing that caused her to doubt its being of Earth origin, though, was the fact that it was giving out Tarakian, no, both Tarakian and Mejeelian distinction codes crammed into some strange hybrid transmission. Furthermore, had it been an Earth ship, it would've attacked them immediately. It wasn't their style to just louse around and give out distinction codes from their home worlds. "Boss," she announced, "We have an unidentified spacecraft inside Vandread Jura's shields at distance 450 and closing. It's sending us a mixture of Tarakian and Mejeelian distinction codes, Fushima-76240013, and Tango-Alpha-1220P-Conundrum."

_Conundrum!?_ BC thought, _Rumor has spread throughout the government about a covert joint venture between the two planets known as the Stellar Security Agency…and one of their best men, codenamed Agent Conundrum, a living legend, is supposed to know things before they happen. It was like he had a crystal ball of some sort …_

"Have you tried opening a channel?" Magno said, interrupting the agent's musings.

"We've received no communication. It's either a one way frequency, or whoever is on that thing doesn't want to answer us." The Blonde Caucasian answered, tapping a few keys on the board. "We have laid out its general form… it's some sort of mechanical sphere." A cross-section of the unidentified vehicle appeared, marked X. "Apparently, its outer hull is outfitted with microscopic heat shield generators at Level 87. Basically, that's heat shields efficient enough to get your ship through atmosphere plunging both Mejeele and Tarak without so much as getting a scratch." 

Atmosphere Plunging was a term used as synonymous to reentry. In other words, whoever built this thing made sure it could penetrate both planets' atmospheres. And to do that, one would need to know the exact details of both. In other words, only a local of this system could've constructed such a device, or vehicle perhaps, not the Earth.

"I see…" the pirate considered several options they had at this time. On one hand, they could just ignore that thing that had gotten into Vandread Jura's shields as nothing but trash. Then again, they might as well destroy it. On the other hand, they could retrieve the object and study it to find out who exactly in the Tarak-Mejeele system could've built it.

BC, though, had spotted something with his sharp eye. Somebody, or something, was sticking a piece of white material onto the vehicle's hatch, "Belvedere, zoom in on the opening of the object."

"Yes, Ma'am." A few sounds of interface manipulation, and a moment later, a mag-window appeared, showing a human being in an orange space suit, posting a message on what was either a window, or the vessel's hatch. The thing was that it was written in both Tarakian and Mejeelian. Although the person's handwriting was horrible, probably from his or her hurriedness to write it, somehow the three people on board were able to make out the message, a distinct, 'Emergency! Let Me In!'

"Okay, so whoever is in that thing needs help." Magno concluded that from the way the person wrote it in a hurry, she opened a com-link to the navigation room where Bart was still staying, "Bart! Open the hangar, we have a visitor."

"Okee-Dokee!" he said with his usual over-eagerness as the vid-window closed on her.

***

            Meia Gisborn reclined on the railings of the bridge that overlooked the Pexis power core, Misty Cornwell by her side. She just couldn't tell why she was here with the blue-haired 14-year-old Plutonian, when she could while the last few hours of the magnetic storm away celebrating with people she spent several years with. Then again, the two of them were alike, more or less, outcasts to society, lonely. That was the most possible answer to why she was staying here with her. 

Just like it read her emotions, the cyan-colored alien life form throbbed as though to say, 'Don't forget about me! I'm lonely too!' or some similar statement. The only way she could speak to her in an understandable language, though, was through that Navi-robot, Pyoro. Although it was true, one way or another, she still understood what it was trying to 'say'. 

The two just stood there, staring at particularly nothing, the explorer-turned-power source resonating with their isolated emotions. It was just the three of them, just like the legendary musketeers of the olden days, 'All for one and one for all' or something like that. Ancient folklore was odd, although it was hardly folklore as what Duero had researched so far. They were fictional characters conjured up to star protagonist in a novel.

            She shook her head at that. Parallelism could sometimes tire the hell out of you. Time can change people a lot; if not that, then maybe other people of influence to their lives. One such person was Hibiki Tokai, first generation reject, Vanguard pilot, and divinely inspired semi-strategist with the capability to think of the most ingenious plans when others were just plain barren of them.

            For some time, these past few months, ever since learning the truth about men and women, she felt strange whenever she thought about him. Strange like what that woman in the Christmas video must've felt towards her man. Was that the right way to put it? In any case, whenever he went by, she felt a sort of… 'tinge' that there was something about him she just could never put her finger on. 

Worried that she might have had some sort of new disease, she visited Duero for an inspection. That, of course, whatever it was, probably didn't have any physical manifestations at all… not until Misty did to Hibiki what she explained later to be something that lovers do to show how they feel, something she called a kiss. She said it was similar to shaking hands and hugging, but far more 'intimate' as she put it. 

            There was that way that somehow, she could feel blood going around and around with nowhere to go, until it 'bunched up' at her face. She was good at hiding these personal things, though, and always managed to control the flow one way or another. Nobody even noticed her get flushed for just a split second to say, "Oh my goodness, Leader! You're blushing! Who're you thinking of, you sly fox, you!" or something like that. Thank God nobody noticed at all. Well, there was a great chance that Paiway did. 

She always managed to sneak in on the most personal and private affairs of people no matter what they did. Whether it was Celtic experiencing menopause, or Bart falling in love with the Vice-Captain, or the Boss with a bad hairdo under that hairnet of hers, or, well, her going flush red at Hibiki passing by for just a moment, Paiway Underberg was able to collect pictures or notes about them. Well, maybe except the time Pyoro locked her up in the meeting room to prevent disturbance of Hibiki confessing to Dita about his true feelings.

But, no matter what precautions you take, no matter how much trouble you go through, life just has its way of saying 'Sorry, guys, looks like you'll just have to break it up,' because at the precise moment that things were supposed to end like in the ancient romantic movies, those damn Harvesters just had to attack and ruin everything. Everything Jura had worked for, everything she had done to pacify Misty in the bio-park, all of Paiway's waiting in the meeting room for nothing, everything everybody worked so hard to achieve was wiped out by something as simple and solvable as an enemy attack. 

Some people called it fate, others called it wrong timing. What did she think of it? Just plain damn bad luck. Still, some people called it life. It reminded her of an old song about life… actually, how complicated life could get. She couldn't quite remember the title, or the lyrics, but there was a line or two saying 'Life's like this' or something like that. 

She shrugged off the whole contemplation from the very start. After all, she had somebody to take care of right now, somebody who needed her love, although not as intimate as what she thought she was experiencing, still love. Sisterly love. She turned her head to the girl standing beside her and was just about to say something, but was interrupted when her com-link sounded, "Meia here."

            An aged voice, probably that of the boss', responded to her own, "Get a security team down to the hangar immediately. We just picked up a hitchhiker and he or she needs some bad help fast."

            "Why a security team? Is the person that dangerous?" the fact that they picked up somebody in the middle of a magnetic storm and the fact that the boss wanted a team to secure the vehicle sounded as though the was taking no risks whatsoever. She never doubted the boss in her decisions before, but a security team was just like saying 'Okay, we're going to let you on board and then steal all of your belongings since we're pirates and all' or something like that. She let out a sarcastic grin, which although was sarcastic, was still extremely rare to find on her face even these days.

            "Just a precaution. You never know when somebody like Rabat would just pop up one day here, board the ship, and mess around with the insides." Meia could only remember the encounter too well. First, he played merchant and looked like an insensible kind of person, as she had always expected. The next thing you know, his attitude worsens and he beats Hibiki to a pulp had it not been for her. To top it off, he gave Parfet an add-on of some sort that just shorted the Pexis out. What a guy. 

Then they found out that he had connections with those creepy spirit-talking people who knew just about everything about everything. That relieved her for just the slightest bit. At least he was somewhat on the level. "I understand what you're trying to say, boss, but do we have to be so rough?"  
  


            "That's not my point." Came the stern, commanding reply of the person who took her in, "The startling thing about this particular vehicle was that its pilot knew both Tarakian and Mejeelian."

            "Can you clarify the meaning of that?"

            "He or she knew both Tarakian and Mejeelian writings and distinction codes to be exact."

            "WHAT!?" she was stunned to hear this. A man or a woman could learn the other's scripts easily, but the opposite faction's distinction codes? That was scarcely possible unless the male or female spy was so deep in the enemy's territory that the officials actually trusted the said person to the point that they provided him or her with distinction codes. Either that, or there was some sort of conspiracy going on between the two planets; that they were actually allied in secret and thus provided their operatives with both male and female codes to get them past security of the opposite gender. They were probably given much more than that; a symbol of this conspiracy to show just that, and some such other implement. The probability of that happening though… came down to an extremely complicated equation concerning the improbability of all things that just occurred. Those spy movies she had been watching in the storage room were probably making her paranoid. She shook off the thought. _Conspiracy… yeah, right._

            "You heard me. The pilot gave out both male and female distinction codes to us. Besides that, he or she posted a sign in both languages that asked us to let him or her in." something as grave as this definitely called immediate attention. "It has just entered the hangar. Get that security team down there now."

            "Yes, ma'am." She returned her attention to Misty, saying, "I'm sorry I can't stay any longer, somebody has just boarded the ship. I'm sure you can keep the Pexis company whilst my team and I find out just who it is." The younger girl could only nod understandingly, smiling in fact, as the Dread squadron's team leader left her alone there on that lonely walkway, with nobody to talk to but the real alien.

***

            Frank Parker stared in dismay at the spacesuit-clad, pulse ring and laser rifle totting, aggressive-looking women that were accumulating like hell on the platform. His bet was that they either didn't trust him, or that just plain wanted to rob him. _Okay, Parker… we've been in tighter shenanigans before. Think of a good way to get out of this little problem where our little charm on the ladies doesn't work._

            Call Talmadge and tell him that he was pulling out? No. Surrender then let them ransack, hijack, and expose what was going to be the former best-kept secret in the star system? No. Fight, lose, get executed, and leave the record of being the chrononaut who experienced the worst way of being 'fired'? Definitely no. _Looks like the only thing left that we can possibly even hope to, for the slightest bit, work on these intolerable sociopath lesbian freaks is our good ol' irresistible Parker's Charm._

            Grapples latched onto the spherical time device's sides and tugged it closer into the mouth of the former Tarakian Flagship's hangar. "Looks like they don't want me to leave too early," Parker said mockingly as he realized that the metallic beams' grip was a little too tight for his comfort. Several unfortunate things have created a bad enough week for him. One good example would be Dr. Vukavitch 'accidentally' kneeing him where it really hurt. Boy did Ramsey get a laugh out of that one. Then there was that Tuesday when he spilled coffee all over the meeting table. Bradley got steamed at that.

Now he was going to live the same week all over again. The only difference was that in the past timeline, he started his week as usual with a little reprimanding from Ramsey about sneaking out through the sewer system, his favorite 'escape hatch', so to speak, which, as usual, always passed out the other ear. On this side of the timeline, though, something much worse than a talk with the bonehead was happening, like getting hijacked by a group of lady pirates with most probably unfriendly intent.

            He heard the mechanical sound of the hangar's doors closing as the women pried his hatch off. With the hissing noise of depressurization, he removed his helmet and placed it on one side as he attempted climbing out. Of course, within a second or so, he found his cheek on the cold, steel surface of the docking bay's floor. On top of the fact that he was unarmed, outnumbered, and had his face kissing the ground, somebody had her black and white high-heeled shoe to the other side of his cheek, holding the poor SSA agent down. 

He rolled his eyes to the side to see more of his captor, straining them to the point that he only got a view of her shapely legs, hips, and thighs, the black and white jumpsuit that coated the mentioned in a rather seductive manner, and her impressive… well… to put it simply, (as a kid, that is) 'water balloons'. What's more to that, was that whoever she was, had a pulse ring trained right smack-dab dead center point blank at his aquiline nose.

            He shifted his sight away from the gorgeous specimen before his instinct was able to force him to do something indecent and right at another one. _Damn!_ He had just locked on his visual receptors to someone else. This peculiar character was armed with, of all the damned weapons made in the last millennium, a 9mm Berretta or something similar. Whatever it was, though, it was an old, really old, 20th Century pistol with standard adjustments made by US Special Forces or maybe even more. Tanned flesh remained exposed beneath the pale yellow tank top and white vest. The fact that her hair was a dark, glossy green surprised him. No girl he'd ever seen before, moreover noticed, had _green_ hair. 

Probably because he didn't get away from NNL that much except during Backsteps. He was never even sent to Mejeele because of scrutiny, and in his place went his female counterpart, Agent Jezebel Manna. There were no more than 2000 women at NNL, and over half, more or less, belonged to Security Teams Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, up until Juliet. What that meant? They all wore crash helmets. 

To top that off, he didn't get around too often, and even if he did, he never noticed any of the ladies except Olga Vukavitch, the biologist. Therefore, it wouldn't be surprising that his eyes finally rolled up into his head on sight; partly because of that, and partly because the pulse ring had gone off .01 seconds ago, scrambling neuron connectivity in his brain, knocking him out.

***

            He stirred to life with a serious burn pain on his nose, squinting to see exactly where he was. "I see that you've come to." This statement caused Sphere Pilot Frank Parker to jerk up to a sitting position, giving him more pain around his lower back portion. He searched the room, which was lined with several hospital beds, a couple of emergency tables, one of which he was on, and several tons worth of medical equipment. 

"How are you feeling?" he was finally able to locate the owner of the low-toned voice. He was a raven-haired man no older than 18 in a lab coat symbolizing his being a member of the medical staff. The layer of hair that hid the right side of his face erased all remaining doubts that Frank had. Standing before him alive and well, which was of smallest possibility, was M.I.A. (Missing in Action) Tarakian Cadet Duero McFile.

            "Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He winced as he felt the throbbing on the side of his head, "Though I could use a little pain relief."

            "Hmm… very well, then." The Doctor went over to a table and brought a pack of capsules, most probably the painkillers that Frank had been waiting for. "Take one after each meal. This should last about three days. If your head still hurts, call me."

            "Thanks." Holding the side of his head with his left hand, Frank took the medical pills from the raven-haired man. "Name's Parker, Frank B."

            "I already know." Duero answered.

            "How?"  
  


            "You had a tag that I had the computer analyze and verify," He replied blankly, "Frank B. Parker; born on Tarak C.Y.72, 29 years old. You work with an organization known as the Stellar Security Agency: a covert joint effort between Tarak and Mejeele, under which you work with a Division assigned to perform a repeated operation known as Backstep." His eyes narrowed, "Tell me, Agent Parker. For how long has this SSA existed? Moreover, what is this so-called Operation: Backstep?"

            "Over 70 years, I guess." Frank's carelessness caused this event. He should've hidden the tag better. He couldn't hide the nature of the SSA any longer, so why not give out the background as well? "As for Operation: Backstep, I can't tell you anything about that. It's classified information. Why'd you ask?"

            "I'm curious about it. Does that mean you work with women?"

            "Yep. I've been for three years, now. Once you find out how nice they are, it's not so bad." He searched for something else to say, "Looks like you already have, though, judging from the fact that you're alive, well, and at a good post on this ship. Frankly, when my boss told me you and Garsus were taken as captives, I thought you'd be dead—"

            "Your superiors know of our presence here?"

            "My people know every single registered Tarak-Mejeele citizen on board this flying bucket of bolts, McFile. So tell me, have the ladies been treating you nicely?" A young, pink-haired girl passed by the open infirmary doors, "That's Levania Stoke, 17 years old, used to be a hair stylist before the unit was shut down."

            "Yes, they have," Seeing as to how a stranger recognized one of his daily patients without so much as asking him, Duero could only surmise that Frank Parker was telling the truth, "You memorized all of the information?"  
  


            "No, not really." Parker admitted, "They were just showing me some photos along with personal info. I just remembered her face, that's all. I have very good photographic memory, you know."

            "I see…" he noted the man as he massaged his temple, "I'm sorry if Meia treated you too harshly… she tends to be that way to strangers. Once you get to know her well, though, you'll see that there's more to her than meets the eye."

            "Meia?" this raised Frank's eyebrow. He had heard that name somewhere before, on another timeline, perhaps. He tried to place it, thinking really hard and straining his head to the point that a nerve received an impulse signaling pain. That, of course, gave him the shock treatment that he needed to realize it: the bodacious bod, the black and white jumpsuit, the pulse ring… _Oh, yeah, Meia. Meia Gisborn, Dread Team Leader._ "Oh, yeah, Meia. Her records say that she has a very tenacious Ice Queen attitude."

            "Hmm, well, you could be wrong."  
  


            "Say what?"

            "Your information could still be true, but around these days, she apparently has become softer and warmer around the crew." Duero could only be sure that the wall of Ice that imprisoned the true woman within. 

_The True Blue Meia on the inside was just hiding, eh?_ True blue; it was a phrase Frank connected with The Blue Avenger, Frank Adams. When was the last time it came to mind? Oh, yeah, it was that fiasco with that autistic savant, Walter. The poor guy had the Mejeelian Secret Service along with the SSA on his ass. Even though Talmadge had promised Frank that Walter would remain unharmed, he still went with his feelings and stashed him away in the orphanage where he grew up. Walter had always liked The Blue Avenger. And the fact that his first name was the same with that of the BA's true identity, Frank Adams, only helped with the case. Frank always had a soft spot for autistic savants, and his best bet was that it surfaced during that mission. "Possibly. You never know, though. Promise me you'll keep this knowledge a secret." 

"I will."

"Good. Oh, yeah. We're going to float right into a Tarakian Minefield once we break through the magnetic storm, so you'd better think of a way to get us through without wrecking the ship, destroying the mines, or without needing to use distinction codes."

            "How do you know that?"  
  


            "Let's just say that in the Stellar Security Business, you know a lot of things before they happen. In other words, we have a crystal ball." He stood to leave, "Well, I have to go now and notify your Captain, Magno Vivan, about this." Of course Frank was going to tell Magno. That was of course after he had paid a visit to Commander Uragasumi Tenmei—err, Vice-Captain Buzam A. Calesa. 

***

Never Never Land, Blackroot Prime, Interplanetary Asteroid Belt

A few minutes later…

            Captain Craig Donovan, along Isaac Mentnor and Bradley Talmadge, escorted by an Alpha security team neared the hangar door marked: Restricted Area. "So tell me, sir. What's the big deal about escorting Frank back here? I mean, just get me a Vanguard and Dread team, and we'll rack the ship up, making sure it gets here safely."

            "Craig," Talmadge replied, "What we're about to show you is another one of this star system's best kept secrets. This could be well considered the War-prepped counterpart of Project Backstep."

            "How is it that, sir?" NNL's Chief Military Adviser inquired.

            "Remember that the Sphere uses Element 115 as a power source allowing it to break through the time-space continuum and go back." Mentnor answered, "Well, the SSA panel has decided to experiment with the more metaphysical attributes of Element 115."

            "What are you trying to say?" he knew these people, and he also knew that they hated getting straight to the point. They stalled the point by going around it to tell riddles and tire people from asking, but why he kept this up was a mystery.

            "We'll get straight to the point this time," Talmadge commented, "Imagine the ultimate integration of a Vanguard and a Dread to the point that they are as one weapon; a fusion to the molecular level. Ever since the standardizing of Vanguards and Dreads as Mejeele's and Tarak's backbone war machines, the SSA technical division has always searched for a way to bind them together in attempts to destroy each others' weaknesses completely. That fusion, even with modern day technology, has always eluded them."

            "Until the discovery of Element 115, that is." Isaac finished Talmadge's statement and continued the discussion, "Besides the fact that when combined with modern reactor technology, it could be used to travel back in time, the SSA technical division has also discovered several other properties unique to Element 115. One of these properties was the metaphysical transmutation and fusion of certain materials."

            "Such as machines," Craig was finally beginning to understand what they were trying to tell him. "Which is why the SSA technical division has been using Element 115 to experiment with different combinations, right?"

            "You learn fast, Craig," said Talmadge, "That's why we know you're the man for the job." The group stopped at the hangar door as Talmadge punched in an access code, bringing the six-foot-thick neo-titanium shutter upwards, revealing something similar to a Vanguard hangar, five awkward machines suspended in the holding chambers for display. "Welcome the home and laboratory of the team working on Project: Dreadguard."

            Donovan's eyes widened at the sight. There they were, standing in front of all who were present to see, five examples of the ultimate integration of the Mejeelian Dread, and the Tarakian Vanguard. In their own stature, they were magnificent to see, each one glistening with a slightly bluish aura to it. "So what do you call these things? Dreadguards?"

            "Yes. Each one has had extensive exposure to Element 115 to allow binding." Talmadge explained, "These are the only ones in existence at the moment, and have their own strengths in certain areas." The group approached one to the far left, slightly humanoid, and bulky, a silvery-blue job done to it. Its right hand grasped tight a deadly-looking fashioned spear, whilst from both its wrists extended a few feet's worth of glowing energy cutters. Some kind of bulky funnel was suspended behind its left shoulder, protruding in an intimidating manner. "Gentlemen, meet Dreadguard Type 1: Juggernaut. This type is a fusion of 101-Type Vanguard and Medea-Class Dread. It's designed for firepower and demolition purposes. Armed with a type 16 Plasma Spear, Dual Energy Cutters, Packs worth of Spider Web Missiles, and a Genocide-Class Particle Cannon, this baby's weapons fit its nickname perfectly."

            "I can see why they call it the Juggernaut." Craig marveled at its unique structure, vaguely resembling its parent war machines to the point that it did look like a crossbreed between them. "What about the next?" he was starting to feel very at home in this hangar; mainly because he had spent most of his adult life as a Vanguard Pilot in the Tarakian Special Forces Division, using state-of-the-art weaponry against female forces. 

Now he was seeing the combination of his machine's the female's, symbolic in a way that placed man and woman side by side once more in the Garden of Eden, partaking of the tree of life in blissful immortality. He looked forward to what the other machines could do, and could not wait to test them in bringing Parker back to NNL, along with 150 female pirates and two male cadets held prisoner for about a year.

***

BC's Private Quarters, The Nirvana

Two Hours to Magnetic Storm Escape…

            Frank Parker reclined into the comfortable female-designed couch, very similar to the ones back at NNL, although a lot plushier. He observed the person standing in front of him, Tarakian Secret Service agent Uragasumi Tenmei, sole government agent to witness the so-called Harvest operation started by the unknown enemy. Of course, he wouldn't let on his knowledge until he's played around a little bit with this man's female alter ego, Buzam Calesa. "So tell me, Vice-Captain. How does it feel to be away from your home system for so long?"  
  


            "What's it to you?" he observed the aquiline-nosed character who was feeling very at home in what was probably a very good imitation of a woman's room. He sensed no anxiety in this man with his presence. It was either he didn't believe those liver-eating rumors, which BC had, over time, discovered to be a ridiculous implement of the Prime Minister to scare soldiers, or he knew of his true identity. "We passed by several planets, most of which have been harvested, others we had to save from being. I can't really say it's boring. What about you, Mister Parker? What brings you to this side of the Magnetic Storm? More importantly, who do you work for?"

            "Me? I'm just a soldier in the Tarakian Special Forces Unit who got stranded out here."

            "You're not a very good liar, Mister Parker." BC had seen through that disguise almost immediately. Soldiers had no authority whatsoever to possess distinction codes, moreover distinction codes smuggled from the enemy. Thus this person was definitely not a soldier. "How is it that you have male and female distinction codes, then? Soldiers don't even have access to their own distinction codes unless they were commanding officers of battleships."

            "I'm surprised you saw through my cover." Parker had noticed the slip in his conversational partner. No real female would know that soldiers did not possess distinction codes, "Although how do you know all that shit about soldiers and distinction codes? The only kind of person to know that kind of information would be a male. It's been nice chatting with Buzam A. Calesa, although it's been more fun flushing out Special Agent Uragasumi Tenmei. How are you supposed to disguise yourself as a woman if you can't even say the right stuff and keep the ladies from getting suspicious?"

            BC let out a humph, "Well then, I suppose we are both hiding some things from each other that we should know about. Don't you agree, Mister Parker?"

            "I guess. Well then, since I know everything about your identity, I might as well tell you mine to gain your trust. I work with the Stellar Security Agency, a covert joint effort between Tarak and Mejeele to ensure the security of the Star System from all dangers on the inside and out."

            The Secret Service agent put a finger to his chin, "Rumor has been going around about an SSA. Of course, the Prime Minister and GrandPa both dismissed its existence as a concoction of some paranoid conspiracy lunatic. I never imagined it to exist."

            Parker picked up the glass of orange juice set at the table in front of him and took as sip, "Well, proof of that is that I know this stuff isn't poisonous venom that women drink to become deadlier against their enemies." Another crazy story GrandPa put up was that juice was poisonous venom that women drank to become deadlier and more agonizing when they fought against men. "Tell me something, Agent Tenmei. How're the veggies they cook here? Green and leafy? Yellow with Vitamin A?"

            There was no doubt about it now. The way this man felt completely at home with women, his knowledge about their food and nutritional values, the fact that he acknowledged his being a member of the SSA. He was indeed one of them; one of the privileged to know the truth about the races and not be punished by the government for knowing so. BC had set his mind now. He was going to tell this man everything he wanted to know for the security of the system…after he had confirmed a few things, that is. "If you are with the SSA, where's your badge?" one rumor concerning the nature of the SSA's badge, was that it held the both the authentic copy of the Tarakian Empire's Secret Emblem, the Blue Phoenix with its talons gripping a pair of thunderbolts, and the Mejeelian Republic's Artemis Seal, the symbol of GrandMa's power.

            Parker fished out a leather case from his pocket, and disclosed the contents as he bottoms-upped the last of his orange juice. Imprinted in every explicit detail were the two symbols, side by side, the logo of the SSA printed beneath. Under that was Parker's identification and badge number. "Need any more proof to get convinced?"

"No. So tell me, Agent Parker. What is the purpose of your arrival?" 

Neither of them noticed the crack in the door, hallway light seeping in, along with the lens of a camera and a loose dark blue ponytail hanging. A soft click, followed by the whispering of  "Pai Check!" preceded the retreat of the shadowy figure, along with the vague sounds of scribbling… Paiway Underberg was at it again. Apparently, another man conversing privately with the Vice-Captain was more intriguing than seeing Jura collapse on top of Hibiki as they entered the hangar and exited their vehicles. This was going to be a far more interesting issue. 

"We're going to have to undo that event. You're the one we've chosen to make the Backstep."

            —Dr. Bradley Talmadge of Seven Days

Author's Notes: Sorry I wasn't able to update that early. Suffered from another issue of mental block. This is as far as the buck goes, though. This chapter might be a little too odd for you guys, but bear with me please. The removal of Seven Days from AXN was almost unbearable for me. I have to get stuck with the first season on RPN 9, a local Philippine TV Station. Blech! But it wasn't like I was able to see the whole first season. I guess I'll have to make do with Olga's old hairdo and Donovan without a beard. Apologies to USS-Kenji for not updating that soon as you wanted.


End file.
